Federal Cooperation
by KP02
Summary: Michael Weston needs a painting authenticated. The problem? Neal Caffrey is the only one who can do it and he can't leave New York. When Peter gets involved, it becomes a mess. Still trying to figure out ratings on this thing, but it's basically rated PG
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: All right, this is the sequel to **_**Before the Anklet.**_** I would like for you to read that, but you don't absolutely have to read it to understand this one. There will be a couple references, but that's it! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar: just this storyline.**

Chapter 1

"The Only One?"

_**Michael's Apartment, Miami**_

"Mikey, there's only one person I know that will be able to tell if this is a fake or not." Sam's face was serious as he looked his friend in the eye. Michael sighed.

"You sure? No old Navy buddies, no one that's an expert in obscure old art?" Michael asked. Sam just raised an eyebrow. Michael sighed again.

"Fi is gonna kill me." He said. Sam grinned.

"Not it." He commented, looking pleased. Michael just glared at him and Sam raised his hands.

"Hey, she's the one who got us into this job in the first place, so she can't complain!" He exclaimed. Michael shook his head.

"Maybe we can do it without her knowing." He said hopefully. Sam just laughed.

"Good luck, buddy!" He said, then went to grab a beer. Michael collapsed in his favorite chair and rubbed his forehead. Like he didn't have enough to do, now Fi had to bring in a client. Even worse, a client with stolen art! He didn't know a thing about art, especially whatever artist had done this painting. He sighed again.

"All right Sam, get ahold of his number and I'll tell Fi." He said, resigned to his fate.

_**New York, FBI Office**_

Neal sat in the conference room, tossing his rubber band ball up and down. It was boring today, just mortgage cases and other paperwork, so when Peter waved him aside, he quickly got up. Peter led him out to the walkway above the busy bullpen.

"What's up?" Neal asked. Peter frowned.

"How about you just go home. You're not doing anything here anyways." He commented wryly. Neal grinned.

"Thanks Peter!" He said, then headed down to his desk to grab his hat before Peter could change his mind. He didn't understand his partner's change of heart, but he was more than willing to accept it. He was to June's when his phone rang. He answered it without checking the number.

"Hey Moz, I'm off early today!" He said excitedly.

"I'm not Moz." A familiar voice said on the other end. Neal frowned. The voice was so familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Then it hit him.

"Michael Weston, right?" He said smugly.

"Yeah, that's me. Listen, I need your help with something." He said quickly.

"What, not gonna kidnap me this time?" Neal shot back. Michael coughed.

"Uh, that shouldn't be necessary. Listen, I just need you to see if a painting is authentic or not." He said. Neal shrugged even though Michael couldn't see him.

"Sorry, but if you're still in Miami I can't help you. There's no way I can get there. Unless you want to wait about three years of course." He said.

"You got caught." Michael said bluntly.

"And released! Just with a tracking anklet." He said sheepishly. Michael groaned.

"All right, I'll just mail it to you. It will be express, so it should be there tomorrow morning." He said. Neal grinned.

"I'll anticipate it." He said, then snapped the phone closed. This would be fun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, two chapters in two days! I'd like to apologize in advance for my crazy updating schedule. Or rather, lack thereof. Sorry, but I'm just starting college, so I can't guarantee how regular I'll be!**

Chapter 2

'Suspicious?'

_**Neal's Apartment, New York**_

_Knock, knock_. The pounding woke Neal out of a sound sleep. He glanced at the clock and frowned. Who was knocking at his door at five-o-clock in the morning? _Knock knock._

"Coming!" He half-growled. He shrugged on a shirt, then opened the door as far as the chain allowed. A deliveryman stood outside, a flat, rectangular box awkwardly balanced in his arms with a clipboard on top.

"Uh, delivery for a Mr. Neal Caffery." The man said, straining to see his clipboard. Neal undid the chain, then opened the door wide. The man set the box down just inside, then handed him the clipboard.

"Just sign right on the line." He said. Neal nodded and signed his name. It was difficult for him not to use an alias, but he resisted.

When the delivery man left, Neal immediately opened the box, excited. Michael hadn't said who the artist was, but he doubted it was a large one. Probably somewhat popular, but he didn't care. He just wanted to see it. When he pulled it out of the box, he was shocked.

"Michael's been holding out on me." He said, running his fingers over the canvas. He could tell by the feel that the painting was a forgery of the original, a very good forgery, but still a forgery. He whistled. Giotto Di Bondone. Who was Michael associating with? He pulled out his phone and pressed the speed dial for Mozzie.

"Hey Moz, you gotta see this." He said with a grin.

_**FBI Office, New York**_

Peter glanced at the clock in his office and growled. Neal still wasn't here. He had told his partner to be at the office by seven. It was now eight, and no sign of the conman. He sighed and grabbed his jacket. He wasn't doing anything right now, so he might as well go get him. Knowing Neal, he was distracted by some 'amazing work of art that he just couldn't pass by.' He waved at Diana, who gave knowing smile, then headed towards the elevator with another sigh. Keeping track of Neal was a full-time job in itself.

_**Neal's Apartment**_

Once again, a knock sounded at the door. Neal paused in his inspection of the painting and Mozzie's head shot up.

"Neal, open the door!" Peter's irritated voice sounded. Neal winced, and went to open it while Mozzie covered the painting, then reclined in his seat.

"Peter! Listen, I'm sorry I didn't show up today, but-" Peter cut him off with an upraised hand, his eyes sweeping the room. Neal crossed his arms.

"Looking for something?" He asked smartly. Peter shrugged.

"You never know what I might find up here." He replied, going over to the painting that was covering the forgery on the easel. "This yours?" He questioned. Neal chuckled.

"Yeah Peter, it's mine. You ready to go?" He asked, amused by the inspection, but still a little tense. Peter was just a little too close for comfort. Peter nodded.

"Yeah, let's get going." He said, turning. However, his suit jacket caught the painting and tugged it off the easel. In an uncharacteristic show of bad luck, the forgery was revealed. Neal grimaced and Mozzie jumped out of his seat to head for the door. Peter glared at him.

"Sit." He said, pointing at the chair. Mozzie sat. Neal, however, remained standing with an easy grin.

"Problem, Peter?" He asked.

"Yeah, I want to know why you have a copy of Giotto's _Lamentation_ in your apartment." Peter replied. Neal shrugged. He honestly hadn't expected Peter to recognize the painting.

"It's not mine, if that's what you're thinking. I'm helping out a friend, confirming that it's forged." He replied. Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Who is this friend?" He questioned. Neal shook his head.

"Oh no. He wouldn't appreciate you getting involved." He said, then grabbed his fedora. "Ready to go?" He asked, heading towards the door. Peter followed, a serious expression on his face. He was going to find out who Neal's "friend" was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello all! So, chapter 3! I like this part. :D It has Fiona. :D**

**Disclaimer: Time for this… I don't own White Collar! Or Burn Notice! Or the painting that I randomly picked out of my art book! :P**

Chapter 3

'Phone Call'

_**Michael's Apartment, Miami**_

Michael paced the room. Why hadn't Caffrey called him yet? Was it really that difficult to tell if something was a forgery? Or was it real and Caffrey was just playing him?

"Michael, enough with the pacing. You're giving me a headache." Fiona said from where she was sitting on the bed sipping a bottle of water. Michael ran his hand through his hair and sat down.

"What if he can't tell if it's real?" Michael questioned. Fiona raised an eyebrow.

"Then we take it to my guy. He's not a conman." She replied pointedly. Michael sighed.

"We were pressed for time, and you weren't here! I had to make a decision!" He protested.

"Oh, so you shipped it halfway across the country?" She replied. Michael rolled his eyes and got up to pace some more. Maybe it would make the phone ring. Fiona took a sip of water.

"I hate conmen." She commented.

_**FBI Office, New York**_

Neal glanced up at Peter's office. Peter had been working on something all morning, and hadn't asked for help once. It was driving him crazy, especially as he knew that Peter wouldn't give up on trying to find out who his "friend" was. He sighed and started up to the office. It was time for some damage control.

Peter heard Neal enter his office and looked up with a smile. It had taken him all morning, but he had gained access to Neal's phone records and traced it to a phone in Miami. From there, he had done some research and found the name of Michael Weston associated with that number. Granted, Weston wasn't someone Peter really wanted Neal working for, but he had managed to outsmart his partner, and that felt good. Neal must have noticed his smug grin, and his face took on an innocent look.

"What?" Neal questioned. Peter leaned back in his chair, still grinning.

"I figured it out." He replied smugly. Neal tensed for a moment, then propped his feet on Peter's desk. The tension would have gone unnoticed by anyone else, but Peter could see it. That is, when Neal's Italian leather shoes weren't in his face. He knocked Neal's feet down.

"What did you find out?" Neal asked. Peter crossed his arms.

"Whose painting it is." He replied. Neal frowned.

"Really? Could you tell me? 'Cause I'm not even sure who the actual owner is." He said, starting to toss his ever-present rubber band ball up and down. Peter scowled, but let it go.

"I don't want you working with Michael Weston." He said seriously. Neal stopped throwing the ball and leaned forward.

"Why Peter, is that concern? I didn't know you cared." He said, his trademark grin in place. Peter snorted.

"Hardly. But have you read Weston's file? A burned spy is not someone you want to associate with." He said. Neal shrugged.

"I've done it before, so this can't hurt." He said. Peter sighed, shaking his head.

"I don't want to know why you were helping Weston, I just don't want you doing it now." He said seriously. Neal grinned and leaned back in his seat.

"Don't tell me you don't remember Nate Weston!" He said. Peter just stared at him.

"That was Michael Weston?" He questioned. Neal shrugged.

"Hypothetically, would I have come to tell you that Nate didn't do it if I hadn't had someone else coerce me into it?" He asked. Peter rolled his eyes. He got sick of Neal's 'hypothetical' stories sometimes. He pointed at the door.

"Out. And if I hear another word about you working with Weston, I will personally take you back to prison." He threatened. Neal stood with the gracefulness of a cat.

"Still playing the prison card?" He retorted just before disappearing out the door. Peter groaned and leaned his head on his hand. He knew without a doubt that Neal would do what Neal wanted to do, no matter what his input was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, this is like an all-time updating record for me! I never update this quickly! I'm very proud of myself! :D**

Chapter 4

'A Message

_**Michael's Loft, Miami**_

When the phone finally rang, Michael answered on the first ring.

"Can't talk long, but I can tell you that the painting's a fake." Caffrey's voice came through the speaker. Michael nodded.

"Right. Can you tell us anything else?" He questioned.

"I have someone working on it right now. I should know by tomorrow morning who forged it. If not, then I can't do anything more." Caffrey replied, then the line went dead. Michael closed the phone and sighed.

"Well?" Fiona's voice jarred him.

"It's a fake." Michael said.

"Well, it appears he knows that much. Anything else?" She asked. Michael nodded.

"He said he was going to work on it tonight and would know by tomorrow." He said, collapsing in his favorite chair and closing his eyes. However, Fiona did leave him alone for long.

"C'mon, I want a steak dinner." She said, tugging at his arm. He groaned and allowed her to lead him out.

_**Peter's Office, New York**_

Peter looked down at the file of Michael Weston's associate, Fiona Glenanne. Interpol had complied for once in sending it over. It was even more extensive than Weston's, if that could be believed. Suspected Gun runner, believed to have ties to the IRA and a dozen other organizations, this woman was not someone to be messed with. He sighed and closed her file before opening one for Sam Axe, another name that was frequently associated with Weston's. It was less nefarious, even an extensive time in the Navy, but then came an affair offshore, and he was discharged. Peter sighed and rubbed his forehead. These were the people Neal was helping. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the files. Then he stood, his mind made up.

Neal glanced up when a shadow came over his desk. Peter stood there, a serious expression on his face.

"How soon can you finish so that you don't have to work with those people?" Peter questioned. Neal took slight offense to Peter's termage, but they did kidnap him, so he didn't protest it.

"If I don't have any bureau work, I can get it done within a few hours." Neal replied confidently. Peter nodded.

"All right, let's go." He said, already walking to the doors. Neal grabbed his hat and hurried after him.

"So, you're coming?" He asked. Peter nodded.

"These people are dangerous and I don't want you to deal with them anymore, so I'll just make sure you don't." He said. Neal cocked an eyebrow, considering the challenge, then rejected it. He didn't particularly like any of them enough to work with them more than once.

_**Neal's Apartment**_

Neal looked over his shoulder at Peter, slightly apprehensive about letting him in when Mozzie was sure to be in there, and who knew what the little man was doing? There was no avoiding it, so he just made sure to make a loud noise while unlocking the door, even though it was unlocked, and slowly inched the door open, ignoring Peter's curious look. Sure enough, Mozzie was sitting at the table, a glass of wine in hand and an innocent look in place.

"Hello Neal, Suit." He said, somewhat cheerfully. Neal nodded.

"Hey Moz. Where's the painting?" He asked. Mozzie cleared his throat and gave a pointed glance at Peter.

"Yeah, Peter's in on it. It's fine." Neal reassured him. Mozzie didn't look happy at that announcement, but he got up and got the painting out of the closet anyways.

"See, I found a few things that could be initials, but none of them were for people that I know." Mozzie said, pointing at various spots. Neal nodded.

"Did you hold it under polarized light?" He asked. Mozzie nodded.

"Yeah, and that's where things got interesting. You see, there was a message." He said cautiously, then handed Neal the light and a magnifying glass.

"See for yourself." He said.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

'They're Coming!'

Neal looked up from the painting with a pale face. His eyes darted to Peter, who looked concerned.

"You can't help with this." Neal stated. Peter raised an eyebrow and he sighed. He knew that his handler would be difficult, but he was trying to protect him.

"Peter, I'm trying to protect you and Elizabeth. Please don't argue with me." He pleaded. Peter cocked his head.

"As far as I know, you're the one in need of protection, and I have no problem with putting you back in prison if that will protect you." Peter said. Neal sighed and handed him the light and magnifying glass.

"Here. Look at it." He ordered. Maybe if Peter got a look at what they were dealing with, he would back off. He watched as Peter leaned down and carefully looked through the glass. When he rose up, he was shaking his head.

"No Neal. You are definitely not getting involved." He said firmly. Neal felt indignation rising up.

"You can't tell me what to do! And I have to help with this, people could get hurt!" He retorted. Peter frowned.

"First, I can tell you what to do. Remember? Second, let the FBI handle it. No one will get hurt, we'll make sure of it." He replied calmly. Neal shook his head.

"You just don't understand." He said softly. Mozzie didn't say a word, but it was clear from his expression that he agreed. Peter crossed his arms.

"All right, what aren't you telling me?" He demanded. Neal and Mozzie exchanged glances and Neal shrugged. Mozzie waved a hand.

"Yeah sure, just tell the suit all of the secrets, why don't you?" He said, then went to pour himself some wine. Neal sighed and watched him go, then turned back to Peter.

"Listen, I have a feeling as to who did this." He started. Peter nodded.

"Who?" He questioned. Neal shook his head.

"Like I said, you don't understand. This is the guy that you don't want to mess with. He doesn't hesitate to use violence. No one but newbies will work with me, because in his mind, the fewer people who know about the heist, the better." Neal finished. Peter still didn't look fazed.

"I'll send Elle to her sisters and take off for a few days. Then we can wrap this thing up and put this guy behind bars." Peter said firmly. Neal sighed and slowly nodded.

"Fine." He said, defeated. In a small way though, he was glad that Peter was helping. The agent could look at things from a different angle and was a good asset. Neal looked up and smiled his typical smile. Peter groaned.

"I've got a bad feeling." Peter said.

"Well, we may have to take a little road trip to Miami." Neal said. Peter was already shaking his head.

"Hear me out! This painting was in Miami, which means that this guy was there recently. Plus Michael is there, and he has a lot of contacts that go faster than the Bureau. Trust me, it will be easier." He finished. Peter sighed.

"Fine. We'll go to Miami." He growled. Mozzie raised his glass of wine.

"Good luck!" He commented, then wilted when Neal turned his puppy dog blue eyes on him.

"Oh no, I don't want to help with this one!" He said, then melted as Neal heaved a big sigh.

"Fine. But you owe me!" He threatened. Neal just smiled again and started packing up the painting.

_**Random Café, Miami**_

Michael jolted to attention when his phone rang and hurriedly fished it out of his pocket.

"Weston." He stated.

"This is way deeper than we ever thought." Caffrey's voice came over the line. Michael ran a hand through his hair.

"How much?" He questioned shortly. Caffrey hesitated.

"This forger wanted you to bring me in." He stated.

"Do you know who it is?" Michael questioned.

"Yeah. His name is Vladimir, and he means trouble." Caffrey replied.

"Great. So much for this being a simple case." Michael grumbled, then sighed. "All right, how are we going to catch this guy?" He questioned. Caffrey hesitated again.

"Well, I'm coming to Miami… With my handler." He finished quickly. Michael ran a hand through his hair again.

"You're bringing the FBI into this? Are you crazy? I'm not exactly on the best terms with them!" He protested. Caffrey sighed.

"Yeah, well he's promised full immunity for anything we do and I can't come alone." He replied. Michael sighed again.

"Fine." He said, then snapped the phone closed. Fiona looked at him curiously from across the table.

"What's up?" She asked, taking a drink.

"Caffrey is saying that this is complicated. He's coming here." Michael replied, leaving out the agent for the time being. He knew she wouldn't appreciate that. She nodded.

"All right. I suppose we should call Sam and Jessie." She replied calmly. Michael nodded and took a drink.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan." He replied.


	6. Chapter 6

**It's been awhile, I know… I'd promise to update soon, but we all know that won't happen. So just review, and maybe it will make me feel bad enough that I'll actually update! :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar or Burn Notice. *tear***

Chapter 6

'85 Degrees'

Neal glared at Peter for the fifteenth time in the twenty minutes they had been in the airplane. Peter just sighed and made himself comfortable.

"I still think handcuffs are a little extreme." Neal grumbled. Peter didn't even open his eyes.

"Hughes insisted. Besides, we both know that you unlocked them eighteen minutes ago, so stop whining." He replied. Neal made a face at him, then lifted his hand from where it had been "handcuffed" to the armrest of the seat. Peter shifted in his seat slightly.

"I'm going to sleep now, just make sure that you are in that seat and handcuffed again before we land, or I will arrest you." He threatened. Neal grinned and waited until Peter emitted a small snore to start flirting with the stewardess in order to get a free glass of champagne. Mozzie turned from the seat in front of him while he was drinking it.

"So, you gonna stay in the seat?" He questioned. Neal shrugged.

"I'm just waiting until the opportune moment." He replied. Mozzie shook his head and turned back to the in-flight movie. Neal considered watching it for a moment, but then decided to explore the airplane.

Fifteen minutes later, after locking himself in the bathroom following an encounter with a flight marshal, he decided the in-flight movie was the better option. He carefully stepped over Peter and plugged in the headphones, only to laugh out loud. Perhaps it was appropriate, but the movie playing was _Catch Me If You Can_.

An hour later, the movie was over and Peter had just woken up. Neal had noticed the signs and had loosely fastened the handcuff around his wrist.

"Hey, sleepyhead, we're landing!" Neal called cheerfully. Peter growled grumpily.

"I was having this wonderful dream that I was at home, not dealing with you or any dangerous bad guys." Peter said. Neal grinned.

"You're a FBI agent. It's an occupational hazard." He replied smartly. Mozzie turned around to shush them.

"Be quiet! I want to hear what it's like outside!" He said. Neal fell quiet when the captain's voice came over the loudspeaker.

"This is your captain speaking. It is a sunny day in Miami and the temperature is 85 degrees. Please put your seats and trays in the upright position. I hope you have good stay in the sunny city!"

"That's unlikely." Peter muttered. Neal shrugged.

"You never know, if I remember correctly, Miami is beautiful this time of year." He replied. Peter raised an eyebrow.

"When were you in Miami?" He questioned. Neal shrugged and looked out the window.

"The ocean is beautiful from right here." He pointed out, ignoring Peter's exasperated sigh.

_**The Terminal, Miami**_

"Michael, he's still not here." Fiona's irritated voice sounded from the seat next to him. He sighed and dug a five dollar bill out of his pocket.

"How about you go get us some drinks?" He said. She narrowed her eyes at him, then sighed.

"Fine. But I know you're just trying to get rid of me." She accused. Michael kept his mouth shut. Rule number one in a relationship: never admit to anything.

"Flight 563 from New York is now at the landing strip." A pleasant female voice came from the overhead. Michael smiled. That was Neal's flight. Now he wouldn't have to listen to Fi complain. Except for the whole FBI thing. She might complain about that.


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm back! After months of not updating, I have finally traveled out of the Naruto fandom long enough to update this. :D Anyways, give thanks to Shara Raizel for giving me the inspiration (and reminder) to do this! :D**

Chapter 7

'Really, What the Message Said'

_**The Walkway, Miami**_

"Peter, they are going to freak if I'm handcuffed." Neal said with no little concern.

"Neal is actually right on this one." Mozzie piped up. Neal heard Peter sigh and knew that he was breaking.

"Listen, Hughes won't know. If you want, I'll tell him you had me restrained the entire time. But I don't want Fiona getting ticked. She hates me enough as it is." He pleaded. Peter sighed again, then waved his hand.

"Fine. But promise you'll be good." He said sternly. Neal grinned and held up his freed hands.

"I can't promise anything." He replied. Peter shook his head.

"This is going to be so much fun." He said sarcastically, then scanned the seating area as they exited the tunnel.

"I don't see him." He said. Neal brushed by.

"He's over there, by the McDonalds." He said, continuing to walk towards the tall, dark, somewhat annoyed looking spy.

"How was your trip?" Michael asked, his eyes scanning the crowd. Neal grinned.

"Better than last time." He said. Michael let a small smile crack at that, but then he saw Fiona coming with two drinks in her hands.

"Oh boy." He said. Neal turned to look and winced. Sure she was beautiful, but she was also crazy.

"What is your problem?" Peter questioned. He had never seen Neal wince at a beautiful woman before. Mozzie chuckled.

"Just wait." He commented. A few moments later, the woman came over and handed Michael a drink with a small smile.

"Michael, who are the rest of these people?" She questioned through thin lips. Michael smiled.

"This is Peter Burke and you already know Mozzie." He replied. Neal grinned.

"Hey Fi, good to see you again." He said, extending his hand. She raised an eyebrow and he lowered his hand.

"I see you still have your animosity towards conmen." He muttered.

"Well, let's end this happy reunion and get the baggage, shall we?" Michael broke in. Everyone agreed to that and set off towards the baggage claim.

_**Michael's Loft**_

"This is where you live?" Peter asked in a surprised tone. Neal smirked.

"You see, that's exactly what I said." He replied.

"Glad we're staying at the safe house." Mozzie muttered. Fiona glared at all three of them.

"So, are we going to get on with this?" She asked. Michael shrugged.

"I'm just waiting on Sam." He said just as the metal door to the apartment opened. Sam walked in, then did a double take.

"What, no guns? You guys are getting soft." He commented. Fiona rolled her eyes and Michael didn't miss the incredulous look that Peter shot at Neal, or the barely perceptible shrug that Neal gave back.

"So Caffrey, you going to tell us what's going on?" Fiona questioned harshly, still glaring at Peter with distrust. Neal took a deep breath and motioned at Mozzie, who immediately drew the painting out of his bag and spread it over the bar. Everyone crowded around it.

"This is an excellent forgery." Neal started, "If you look closely, even the brushstrokes correlate to the original. However, the colors are just a little too vivid, and the paint is thinner." He paused for a moment.

"As interesting as this little art lesson is, what does it have to do with anything?" Sam asked. Neal frowned.

"I'm getting to that. You see, there are only a few people in the world that could do this. I'm one, of course, and several of the others are either in jail or retired. That leaves three that could do something like this. And when you put it under polarized light, there's only one." He finished.

"How do you know?" Jessie asked. Neal took a deep breath.

"There's a message." He said.

"What does it say?" This time it was Michael. Neal exchanged a glance with Peter before replying.

"Give Caffrey my regards."


End file.
